Mark's Story Read Free

again despite their failings. Mark knew what it meant to fail, to not be the man he believed God—and his mother—wanted and expected him to be. Besides the constant need to put his wishes above others’, he frequently had to seek forgiveness for being selfish, cross, or disobedient.
    “I will offer to You the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and will call upon the name of the Lord. I will pay my vows to the Lord now in the presence of all His people, in the courts of the Lord’s house, in the midst of you, O Jerusalem. Praise the Lord!
    “Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles! Laud Him, all you peoples! For His merciful kindness is great toward us, and the truth of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord!”
    Even as they sang the beautiful old passages from the Torah, Mark’s mind wandered, and he was eager to finish and listen in on the disciples and the One they called their Master.
    Mark had to admit that having in their own home the Man some believed was Messiah Himself made him doubt it all the more. What was the likelihood that after all these years, Messiah would come in Mark’s lifetime, know his mother, and visit their home? Interesting and fascinating as he found the Man and His friends, the very idea seemed preposterous. And while Peter’s stories included acts that would certainly qualify the Man as the Chosen One, Mark also knew that grown men loved to exaggerate, to thrill gullible young people.
    Jesus was surely a wonderful man, and His disciples obviously believed in Him and were devoted to Him. But Mark would have to see one of His miracles himself to even consider that Jesus of Nazareth might be the promised deliverer and king.
    With the singing of the psalms completed, Mark began helping his mother and the servants to clear their table, but she urged him to hurry upstairs. “The Teacher informed me that He and His disciples may stay very late and that I should not feel obligated to wait up for them. Please give Him my regards, as I do feel I will turn in early.”
    “Shall I stay with you, Mother?” Mark said, willing, but hopeful she would decline his offer. “Are you all right?”
    “No, please. Memories tonight are sweet and painful, but I will feel most comforted if I know you are seeing to our guests.”

     

    A S M ARK MOUNTED the steps he could hear Jesus speaking again. Near the top he was met by the servants coming down. “Where are you going?” he whispered.
    “He has excused us, master,” one said, carrying a pitcher, a basin, and a towel.
    “What’s this?”
    “He washed their feet. The Teacher.”
    “Did He not know that we already—”
    “He knew.”
    “Very well. Remain nearby to restore the room when they have left. I will signal you.”
    Mark sat on the top step, where he would remain out of sight behind the door and yet be able to hear. He tucked his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, for he was wearing only a thin linen garment, and the night was growing chilly.
    He listened intently. For whatever reason, Jesus had washed His disciples’ feet. They continued to murmur about it and one or two seemed to be weeping.
    Then Mark heard the Master speak.
    Jesus said, “Assuredly, I say to you, one of you who eats with Me will betray Me.”
    “What?”
    Mark recognized the sorrowful voice of Peter, echoed by many others. They all seemed to protest at once, then asked Jesus one by one, “Is it I?”
    Jesus spoke quietly. “It is one of the twelve, who dips with Me in the dish.”
    Several gasped at that, and it was all Mark could do to keep from peeking around the corner to see who it was. Jesus continued, “The Son of Man indeed goes just as it is written of Him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been good for that man if he had never been born.”
    Suddenly came the sound of rushing footsteps, and Mark pressed himself back against the wall as a figure swept from the room and clambered down the steps. Judas